Five Days
by mysticflakes
Summary: Losing a bet is nothing for Kuramochi, but when the penalty involves Ryousuke, it's a different matter altogether. The five love notes he agreed to write in an attempt to see a flustered Ryousuke - what the team has never seen - suddenly doesn't seem all that simple with their meddling. [One-Shot] [Written for geekinthepink23's Writing Challenge 2]


Five Days

**A/N: Um. I really, really have no idea but I think this kinda got out of hand...**

**Written for the geekinthepink23's second writing challenge.**

**Prompt: Pranking Ryousuke Kominato**

**Word Count: 2,196 words**

**Warning: A possibly OOC Ryousuke, but this is how I imagine him to be like. Um, in private. Or maybe it's just my own weird fantasies... and some dark fanfiction I happen to stumble upon - (shrivels in corner)**

* * *

><p>Kuramochi gulps as everyone focuses their stares on him.<p>

"You can't be serious," he protests weakly, trying to worm his way out of the deal.

An amused smirk curls Miyuki's lips. "Do I look like I'm not?"

"It'd be a death wish," he tries again.

Haruichi clears his throat, red flooding his cheeks when all eyes turn to him. "I - I'd like to see, too."

"You go, Haruicchi!" Sawamura cheers, slapping the pink-haired boy on the back heartily. "Kuramochi-senpai, just do it like a man!"

He silently pleads to Tetsu whose lips curl upward by the tiniest fraction. A chill runs down his spine. "I _am_ the captain, after all.." The unspoken threat hangs in the air among the group, and Masuko's chomping of his pudding grows increasingly loud.

_"Masuko_," Kuramochi growls. The boy looks up. "You want the pudding? I guess Ryousuke looks like he'll - "

"Damn it, you lost, so just do it, Kuramochi!" Jun says, slamming his manga shut.

They wait, eyes on him intently.

"..._fine_, I'll do it. Just five days."

* * *

><p><em>Day 1<em>

Kuramochi resists a shudder as he slips a pink note inside Ryousuke's locker. "Fuck, this - I can't believe I wrote - "

" - pretty much done."

Ryousuke's voice sends his skin prickling and he straightens from his crouch just as he catches a glimpse of the pink hair rounding about the corner, obviously heading for his locker.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and dives to the next row of lockers, heart pounding in his heart wildly, eyes wide.

"Oi, Ryousuke-kun, is that a love note there?"

There is silence. Then the sound of paper being unfolded. Kuramochi holds his breath. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"**You're uh, quite cute,**" a voice that isn't Ryousuke's reads out. "...a confession?"

"Just chuck it away," Ryousuke says blandly, and the locker slams shut. "I've baseball practice."

Kuramochi feels his cheeks burning. Okay, so he isn't _that _good at writing love letters.

\\\\\+\\\\\

"Haha!" Miyuki holds his stomach as he laughs. "Who writes _uh _in letters?"

Kuramochi feels his vein throb; snarling, "You guys _forced _me to! Just because you want to see him looking flustered - "

"He won't be if you continue writing that trash." Miyuki takes a gulp of water from the bottle.

"You think you'd do better?"

He finally stops laughing - that _bastard - _and he nods. Placing the bottle of water back down on the chair, he calls, "Oi, Sawamura, come here!"

What's he calling the idiot here for? _"What_?" Sawamura yells back, "I'm talking to - "

Miyuki snaps his fingers. "Here, now." Kuramochi rolls his eyes; this catcher really likes to get on his nerves. Sometimes he wonders...

Sawamura growls, stomping over there in an instant. "You bastard, I'm not a do - "

Miyuki cuts him off, "Do you know why I have my mitt on only one hand?"

Sawamura blinks. Kuramochi blinks. What's he getting at?

"Uh..."

Miyuki slips his hand into Sawamura's, interlacing their fingers together smoothly, naturally. A smirk tugs on his face as Sawamura's face turns impossibly red, for once, speechless. "Because," he murmurs loud enough for Kuramochi to hear, "I can hold your hand in my other." Miyuki brings the hand up to his lips -

Kuramochi has had _enough._ "This is the fucking bullpen, Miyuki! Don't flirt here!"

"I was only teaching you," Miyuki says innocently, straightening from his position as he releases Sawamura's hand, who still looks too flustered and confused to talk.

Like hell.

"Kuramochi." The voice comes so close and so sudden that Kuramochi scrambles almost five feet away. Did he find out? Ryousuke eyes him, leaning over the low fence, lips twitching in amusement, "What's wrong?"

He sighs in relief. Doesn't seem so. "N- nothing! Let's go practice! Hyahahaha!"

* * *

><p><em>Day 2<em>

Kuramochi forces himself to breathe as he presses himself on the locker just behind Ryousuke's, sweat dampening the back of his neck. Ryousuke is opening the locker, the same friend with him, both of them chuckling. His stomach knots uneasily but he dismisses it.

"There's another one!"

A sigh. "Leave it be, Tekkai-kun."

Tekkai ignores him. "**Yo****u look beautiful playing baseball." **He hums. "Quite sweet, eh? Your fan, Ryosuke-kun?"

The locker slams shut. "It's probably written for laughs."

Kuramochi growls. Yes, he is forced to, and he penned down people's opinions from the net to write that. In his defense, though, Ryousuke really _does _look gorgeous when he plays, not in the feminine sense, but...it makes his heart stop sometimes.

\\\\\+\\\\\

The group huddles around him. "It's at least much better than the feeble compliment," Miyuki comments, nodding his head.

"I didn't know you can use words like 'beautiful'," Jun says, chuckling, slapping him on the back.

Kuramochi's cheeks redden. He wishes for the five days to be over already. "Shut up."

"Mm," Tetsu nods his head in approval. "Just three more days. Rack up the game, Kuramochi."

Masuko licks the last bit of pudding off the spoon and agrees silently, nodding. Kuramochi sighs - he doesn't see how love letters will faze Ryousuke - he's probably accustomed to receiving it already.

"You're close to him," Haruichi says quietly, "say something sincere, senpai."

Kuramochi stares at him, and nods slowly. The way the younger Kominato is looking at him makes him feel like this isn't just a simple bet he happened to lose and forced to be the one writing these notes. Haruichi gives a small nod, an expectant smile curling his lips, before he looks away.

Is he thinking too much?

* * *

><p><em>Day 3<em>

"Y'know, I'm looking forward to these locker visits," the cheery voice of Tekkai-kun comes to earshot.

Kuramochi scowls; what the hell is his problem?

"Oh - oh, there it is, again!"

A scramble. "**Don't hide things that hurt - **there's a part that's scratched out." The confusion is evident in his voice and Kuramochi scrambles up in horror from his hiding place, almost banging his head to the row of lockers behind him in his haste. He slotted in the _draft _that was never meant to be seen!_ Oh fuck. _

"**You're wearing yourself d**** - " **Kuramochi wishes he can shrivel up in embarrassment. Even if it _has _to be read, he doesn't want _other_ people to read it. **  
><strong>

He is abruptly cut off, and there's a momentary reassurance that he won't finish reading it. "Ryousuke-kun?" Tekkai questions.

He waits for him to tell him to throw it away. _Please, please -_

"You recognize the handwriting?" Tekkai's voice breaks the silence.

_Shit._ It sounds like Ryousuke just snatched the paper over. _I'm completely screwed. _

Heavy silence.

"...no."

Kuramochi feels both relief and disappointment weigh down on him. After two years of friendship and he still can't recognize his handwriting? _Asshole._ He waits there quietly for the two to leave, then picks up his bag and trudges to practice a few minutes after, not understanding the tightness in his chest.

\\\\\+\\\\\

"Oi, Ryousuke, what's with you today? You missed three balls!" Jun yells, his bat making a full strong swing as another ball makes a loud contact and goes flying straight to the field.

Ryousuke shrugs. "It's nothing."

Jun stares at him, "Really?"

Another loud **clang** echoes as the ball flies outfield, and Ryousuke wipes his sweat on his sleeve. "I'm fine," he mutters darkly.

Jun swallows at the look on his face. Shit, maybe the letters got a little out of hand? What did Kuramochi write?

\\\\\+\\\\\

"No." Kuramochi keeps his lips firmly shut, crossing his arms. They all stare back at him, equally defiant and adamant.

Jun waves his arms. "He was kinda out of it during batting practice today," he protests, "I just wanna know why."

"It doesn't matter," Kuramochi snaps, a little irritated; that bastard can handle himself just fine.

"He was over-exerting himself," Haruicchi murmurs, "I think his wrist got little swollen."

Kuramochi feels something clench at his heart. "Hmph. He deserves it, that bastard. Always hiding this and that from others, never caring about his own - "

He stops his own rambles and feels his cheeks heat up at the intense stare the younger Kominato is giving him. "_What?_"

"Nothing." He smiles.

Kuramochi feels himself shudder, not knowing whether it is a sardonic or a genuine one; Haruichi is scarily like his brother when he smiles like that.

* * *

><p><em>Day 4<em>

"What I truly want to know," Kuramochi hums thoughtfully to himself as he props his chin on his palm, staring out of the window. He has never seen Ryousuke's eyes... he wonders what colour are they. Are they in the same shade of orange as Haruichi? Or a bright, amber gold?

He runs his fingers through his hair, miserable. Why is he here contemplating about his eye color? He eyes the empty sheet of paper and sighs. He doesn't know what he can write for him. Okay, that's a lie, but he doesn't want his friend reading it.. A scowl appears on his face as he thinks of Tekkai; till now he doesn't even know what he looks like - why does he seem so close to Ryousuke, anyway?

His bruised wrist, though. Kuramochi reverts his thoughts back. He pulls the ointment out from his pocket, tossing it up and down carelessly with one hand. This idiot, always tiring himself out yet putting on a brave front.

He remembers the strained smile Ryousuke gave him a few weeks ago when he caught him alone behind the clubroom a few hours after practice; the sweat trickling down his forehead as he let out puffs of exhaustion while he bandaged the injury the best he can. Kuramochi had immediately interfered, ignoring his protests and taking over his clumsy work himself, dismissing the strange impulse to pull him into his arms. A fucking idiot. He really needs someone to take care of him, despite his strong, independent nature.

He presses his palm against his forehead; why is he thinking so much about him anyway?

He pens down his thoughts about his eye color wistfully -

oh, fuck. His pen drops from his grip and rolls off the table, clattering onto the ground. He slumps back on his seat. He can't be.

He can't be.

...

Fuck, he's in love with a sadistic bastard.

* * *

><p><em>Day 5<em>

"I'm not doing this anymore," Kuramochi declares, crossing his arms defensively.

The group remains strangely quiet.

"It's about time," Jun says, shrugging.

Huh?

Kuramochi continues anyway, "This isn't even funny- "

"Shit." Miyuki's sudden uttered curse cause everyone to swivel their heads and see Ryousuke standing a few feet away. Kuramochi pales as everyone scrambles away, sensing the dark aura hanging around the older Kominato brother. He curses, turning to run far too late, the strong clasp around his wrist stopping him.

Those bastards -

"What's funny?" It's asked softly, mockingly, as Ryousuke tugs Kuramochi to face him. The latter feels his heart start slamming against his ribs at the close proximity - this is _not _good.

"N-nothing."

"Y'know, recently I've been receiving..." Ryousuke almost purrs, "_m__ysterious _- love - notes? I can't be sure."

Red flames Kuramochi's cheeks as he tries to look away, moving a step back, but a hand jerks his chin back to face him, tingles spreading from the region where he touched.

Kuramochi swallows. "It's just a j - "

"Are those notes lies?" Ryousuke asks in a low whisper. "_L__ook _at me, damn it," he snarls.

He does. "They are." He falters when he sees Ryousuke's jaw clench and the hold almost tightening painfully on his chin. "Not," he whispers.

Kuramochi wants to die of embarrassment at his cowardly confession. Is he humiliating him right now? "Don't play with me like this," he hisses through gritted teeth.

"I don't _play_ when it comes to things like these," he snaps, fingers brushing the gentle contours of his face. His eyes snap back up to meet his.

Kuramochi's breath catch in his throat and his heart seems to stop beating for a second.

His eyes are _nothing _like he imagine. This alluring, deep, fiery, seductive shade of startling red mixed with orange probe boldly into his; the heavy, intense stare pining him in place and stirring an unknown feeling in his stomach.

For a moment, all that can be felt is the heat of the afternoon sun, Ryousuke's fingers caressing his hair as their eyes stay intently on each other's, sweat trickling down both their faces and their breaths fanning each other's warm cheeks.

Then suddenly, one of Ryousuke's hands splays on his hips, moving dangerously south. Kuramochi tries not to be affected by his touch as he continues to meet his gaze straight on, but his shallow pants are giving him away.

"But I guess I do play..." Ryousuke's tongue dart out to wet his lips. "In _punishments._"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had a hard time keeping this under 2,200 words. I got carried away at the end. *coughs* **

**I'M _SO_ SORRY, KURAMOCHI. (That you had to be the bottom?... Okay, I should shut up)**

**All the best to the other contestants! **

**Do drop me a review to tell me your thoughts!**

**-mysticflakes **


End file.
